


Not Yet

by lanaismykhaleesi



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Fucking, Hand Jobs, Porn, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 08:33:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17784059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanaismykhaleesi/pseuds/lanaismykhaleesi
Summary: My Love from OQ submission for my amazing bestie Brandi (@bolt41319).A very smutty five day fic detailing married couple, Robin and Regina, doing their best to hold out on their sexual desires until their anniversary night. Every year, they tease and play, never giving in. This year is no different.Happy Valentines girl!!!! #LovefromOQ #Valentines #OutlawQueen





	Not Yet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bolt41319](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bolt41319/gifts).



**Sunday**

Robin Locksley was ravenous. Not for food, but for his wife.

He craved her, craved the taste of her sweet wet folds soaking with want. A want that only he could quench. He craved – hungered, to bite her, give her tits a good gentle suck, pebbling them into delicious nubs all for his generous tasting. He wanted the softness of her creamed skin, smelling of lavender and vanilla, to kiss the curve of her shoulder, the secret spot under her ear that makes her release a pleased moan, one that would have his core shaking needing and lusting for her. All he needed was to take her, dig himself inside her as her plump tits bounced, as her heat filled with more need.

To simply kiss, nip and bite at her curves, have her moan his name, pleading him to taste her, to bite and suck at her just the way she loved.

He could take her, he could ravish her, have her screaming and moaning as he took her against the walls of their bedroom, but he couldn’t – wouldn’t.

He’d promised her and himself he’d wait. But the waiting was growing to be more difficult than he’d thought. It was tradition though, a tradition they both made sure to keep after 7 years together. A tradition that started after Robin had been away for a business trip, leaving Regina a wanting mess.

They had not realized when it happened, the exchanging of texts in between and during his meetings. Nights spent moaning and writhing on the phone, pleading each other to touch and tease for one another but never reaching their climax. Robin had returned the morning of their anniversary as he had promised that year, he found his then girlfriend, splayed on their bed in nothing but a red thong, with handcuffs resting in the valley of her breasts, waiting for him. He took her that night, cuffed her and teased her, had her moaning his name, pleading for more until neither could take any more, neither could hold off the week-long build up and exclaimed one another’s names over and over until the sun rose.

Somehow, it was something that they both wanted to have together, to experience torturous want until they were able to release together, in the embrace of wanting lovers.

She was unashamed in sex, always had been with all her lovers. But with Robin, there was a lust, a passion that filled her that pushed her to a side of herself that was undiscovered, until him. They both found that it was the hunt of the climax what they loved, that waiting in heat and passion, reaching the cusp to orgasm but just barely getting there. Waiting, wanting, imagining lustful thoughts was what made it all so much more inviting – so addictive.

So, every year since that business trip, just a few days shy of their anniversary, his wife would tease, taunt, and torture him until that night, until he’d take her and do with her as he pleased - in whatever way he pleased.

This year would be no different.

Sunday, he thought he’d be okay, he thought that he’d managed to get his lust under control but when he got back home after having a drink with his mates at the nearby pub, he’d been welcomed with the soft humming of his wife. He followed it, and it led him to the bathroom, where she lay in the bathtub, naked with a soap soiled washcloth. The water clear, just a sprinkle of small suds at the top of the water giving a clear view to her delicious, breasts and the flat torso, where she was currently cleaning herself.

“Hello, Mr. Locksley,” she greets him, a casual greeting paying no mind to the way she’s referring to him. Mr. Locksley. Not Robin. That’s all he needs, he knows that she’s begun.

“Hello, darling,” he gulps down, standing at the frame of the doorway as she continues to smooth the cloth over her legs now.

“See something you like,” she asks, as she sits up, the water sliding down her chest and as the cold air meets her warm skin, her nipples pebble greeting him happily.

“I like everything about you, love,” he replies after refocusing himself, swallowing the thick knot on his throat that doesn’t permit him to speak anything else.

She raises her brow, and extends the washcloth to him asking him in the most innocent voice she can muster, “Can you get my back? I can’t reach that far.”

He nods, walks over, not removing his eyes off her, takes the soiled cloth as she turns around to have her back meet him. He takes a moment to admire her, the smoothness of her skin, slowly drying now from the cool air. She moves her wet hair to one side and turns her head to look at him, “Is there something wrong, Mr. Locksley?”

“No darling,” he replies in a thick nervous rasp. He begins to move the cloth over her back, adding a good dose of her preferred body wash which causes the smell of vanilla and lavender to fill his senses. She begins to hum, a slight bit of a moan for good measure when she tells him _it feels so good_. She continues to urge him on when he begins to go over her shoulders giving her a bit of a massage and she moans, god in fucking heaven the moan she gives out has him mumbling – _fuck_ – and she begins to move her hands, the slight movement of water has him veering his eyes towards the front of her as she begins to kneed over her breasts, cup them and give them a good pull.

“Fucks sakes, Regina, you’re killing me, love,” he growls behind her ear.

She hums in response, leaning back to rest on his chest, dampening his shirt. He can’t help it, can’t not kiss that delicious silky skin of hers. So he dives in, kissing the crevice of her neck, sucking a slight bit as she moans even more, whispering out a – _yes –_ that prompts him to drop the cloth in the water and move his hand to slink over her belly and trail up to her mounds, now pebbled in desire.

God, he wants to fuck her, loves to feel her like this – naked and wanting. Loves to see her writhing and pleading for him to take her, love her just the way she deserves.

But the heated interaction is broken as she stands without a word to him, the water trailing down her naked form as she takes the nearby towel.

“Not today, Mr. Locksely,” she says casually, stepping out of the tub and leaving him a wanting mess to clean up the mess she’s left.

He’d managed to refocus enough to clean up the puddled floor and change into his blue henly and pajama pants. The cold water he’d thrown on his face did no use when he saw the sight of his wife, splayed naked reading a book as her glasses hung at the bridge of his nose, he knew then and there he was in trouble.

So, he is ravenous, in bed as his wife is naked, sleeping soundly away and all he wants to do is taste her, eat her out as much as he likes but he can’t – he won’t. He just knows it, knows that every day going forward will be a delicious torment that will test his limits.

God in heaven help him.

**Monday**

He’d woken up the next morning before her. The first thing he felt was her smooth skin against him. She’d shifted herself, wrapping her arms around his torso and for fuck's sakes, she was naked. He had forgotten for a moment, the night prior, what she’d done, how she’d tempted him.

He wanted to, really wanted to just take her, wake her from her sleep and just have a quick morning evening fuck. But instead, he moved over to shower and dressed himself. He’d made his way to the kitchen and made himself a quick cup of coffee as he toasted his sesame bagel.

It’s silent, until the tapping of bare skin on the hardwood floor, has his senses alert. He catches a glimpse of her, clad in nothing but lacy blue panties and one of his black Henley’s. She makes her way over to their kitchen, hair slightly tousled with a warm morning smile and a kiss to his stubble cheek.

“Good morning,” she whispers to his ear, a slow hot murmur that sends chills down his spine. She turns away from him, with a coy smile on her lips, knowing full well the devilish temptation she’s causing him. She takes a cups from a cabinet and pours herself over coffee and adds in the bit of half and half that he’s left on the counter for her use.

She sips her coffee, her almond orbs giving him a flirty smile, “How did you sleep?” she asks him, sliding her tongue gingerly at her bottom lip, tasting the bitter coffee.

He swallows thickly, watching her taste her bottom lip and before he knows it, he’s there as well, his thumb outlining the curve of her lips.

Her eyes are dark, wild and in deep thought, he knows, can see the want in her eyes and how hard it is for her to hold back as well. She takes his thumb, delves it into her warm tongue, wraps it around her and sucks just a bit and she sees it, the dark lustful turn in his eyes. She releases it, a taunting smirk pulling at her lips as he attempts to clear his throat.

He scans her over, immediately noticing the pert nipples through his Henley. He doesn’t care, really, truly doesn’t care now and he goes for it, slides his hands under the Henley, swimming upwards past her belly and halting at the touch of tender nipples that are now openly wanting to be touched by him. She hums, leans at the slightest bit, letting him know to keep on going. He loves it, loves knowing that he can make her feel this way, a quivering wanting mess.

The moment is short, so so short that seconds later he feels the cold air replacing her warm breasts and he’s left there, a hungry frustrated mess as she walks off telling him, “Have a nice day at work, Mr. Locksley.”

.*.

He thought it would only be nights where she would torture him, but it seemed that work was not off limits from what she would him later on in the day. She had been pretty silent in the mid-morning, which was strange. They generally kept in touch throughout the day, so, it made Robin uneasy to not know what to expect from her.

It’s nearing noon and he was going out of his damn mind, completely distracted by the images of his wife ingrained in his mind. He was meant to be focusing on the upcoming meeting with the Locke Legal Firm partners to go over any cases that his staff was going to be handling in the next week, but he could not for the life of him focus enough to at least go over his emails.

Regina texted him a bit here and there, she’s sent him a couple pictures of The Red Vineyard by Van Gogh that was recently acquired for a temporary exhibition from a museum in Moscow. She was completely and utterly excited and he was more than proud of her. It had been a huge accomplishment for her to get a job as a curator at the Museum of Modern Art in New York but, to lead an exhibition from start to finish was a complete dream for her.

Aside from pictures of artwork, there were a few nods here and there to completely innocent flirting. Reminiscing here and there of past trips they had to Italy during the summers. She’d asked him if he had recalled their time in Rome where they had taken a group tour of the Vatican, one that lead to an unknown office full of vintage bibles and scrolls where they decided to try a few sinful positions atop what could have possibly been the desk of an archbishop.

He had told her that it was impossible to forget, especially her low moaning as she exclaimed to god to let her come in his mouth.

She replies telling him, “ _I hope we can do that again sometime. Maybe take a trip to Paris next year for my birthday. You can fuck me in one of the confession booths in the Notre-Dame Cathedral. Wouldn’t you like that?”_

That daring woman.

He chooses to take the walk to the conference room to attempt to compose himself. He takes his brief and begins to make his way to the conference room to prepare for the upcoming meeting. Somehow, it was as if she knew he was going to be starting his meeting any moment because the moment he stepped into the conference room, she’d sent a picture of herself in a naughty pout clearly sitting in her office, then sent another text telling him, “ _I had hoped you would have fucked me last night. I really wanted you to fuck me with your tongue.”_

This bloody woman will be his undoing, he knows it.

He sits at the head of the table, some attorneys have already arrived and he hears them discussing some current cases. But he truly could not care less about any of the criminal proceedings that his firm is currently handling when his wife is sending him a second picture.

This one now a closer look at her plump lips, being biting down by her teeth and she tells him, “ _Are you going to suck my clit this Thursday? Promise me you will.”_

Well, she wants to play like that then? Very well.

He clears his throat, settling on the chair, and he can’t help but feel the eyes of every person in the conference room looking at him, feeling like they all know exactly what he is doing.

It’s crazy, he’s completely over thinking and self-conscious, so he chooses to ignore it. He replies back, “ _I’ll be doing a lot more than sucking. You just wait and see, love.”_

He sets his phone down as the meeting commences, it’s about fifteen minutes in that he feels the buzzing in his pocket. He doesn’t like to be on his phone during meetings unless extremely necessary, it’s something he’s expressed to his employees and is a company rule, so he decides to ignore it.

But ignoring is not an option when he feels the buzzing, and is sure his attorney Mulan sitting next to him hears it too as she keeps eyeing him with brows furrowed. He takes it out of his pocket to silence it, nestling it between his legs as he peeks at the screen to see that Regina as left him 6 messages. He debates whether to open the messages or wait until after his meeting. He’s half decided to wait when he sees another text come up from her, and he knows that whether emergency or not, it’s his wife and he must obey.

He slides to the right, opening up the messages to reveal 6 pictures of a very naked Regina. One of her standing face front in front of their full body mirror, her hair disheveled like this same morning, and clearly biting her lower lip as her free hand laid at her belly. There’s two up close, as she lays in their bed, her delicious breasts in clear view for him and he sees that they’re pebbled as Regina smirks away at him. It’s no better than the next two of her lower body, silky sweet skin glowing in the sunlight as he clearly sees her hands at her clit remaining still. The last one though, that one fucks him over as he can see her sweet pussy from her legs wide open in one of her pencil skirts. She’s sitting at her desk, it’s clear but the camera flash is what keeps his eyes glued to the center, where her naked pussy is.

All the pictures end with the text that says, “ _Wouldn’t you like to be on your knees in front of me, making sure that I’m enjoying the rest of my day?”_

“Robin?” Mulan's voice has him raising his head, as the entire room is discussing a hearing for tomorrow. Mulan has known Robin for a few years now, she’s one of his most trusted attorneys, and she can tell when he’s off and unfocused.

He shuffles the phone into his pocket and whispers to her, “I’ve got to go check on Regina, not sure if I’ll be back.”

“Is she alright?” Mulan asks with concern. It’s not like Robin to leave in the middle of a meeting for anything unless it’s an extreme emergency.

“She’s fine, it’s just… I’ve just got to go check on her,” he tries to explain as he excuses himself and lets the rest of the staff present know that Mulan is to now lead the meeting.

His hands, clammed and god in hell his cock stiff as he makes his way over to his car. Not caring who he runs into because he needs to see his wife, needs to at least touch her, not go too far but he can’t keep all day like this without at least seeing her.

He drives over to the MOMA, and begins to make his way over to her office. He ignores her assistant, and marches right through to Regina’s office and a growl escapes him when he finds that it’s empty.

Her assistant calls to him, she stands a few feet behind him, smiling as she holds a card in hand, “Mrs. Locksley let me know to give you this when you came by.”

She gives him the card, as he looks over it and asks her, “Where’s Mrs. Locksley gone off to?”

“I’m not sure sir, she said she would be gone for the rest of the day and to just make sure you got this.”

He nods, thanking her as he opens up the card. He merely snickers, he reads it, that woman is brilliant.

_Whatever you are looking for, you won’t find it here, Mr. Locksley. I suggest you try to go back to work, and try to get some work done, or look at your phone, whatever you like. I’ll see you at home. 5 pm sharp._

He wants to be furious at the teasing and taunting she’s given him, but he’s not, he loves it - especially from her. So he does as he’s told, and makes his way back to work.

.*.

He makes it home on time, and at exactly 5 pm as he was ordered. He drops his briefcase at the entrance. The smell of homemade lasagna fills his senses. It’s his favorite, especially when his wife makes it.

It had been a hard day, quite literally. He’s spent the better part of his afternoon looking over pictures of his wife, sending her very detailed texts messages of what he plans to do with her. The way he plans to bite her inner thighs, suck until it leaves purple marks that he can kiss away the next morning. The way he plans to tie her up on their bed, and fuck her with her favorite vibrator until she begs him to stop, to let her come. All his extensively descriptive texts are for nothing when she does not reply to a single one.

She’s playing hard to get, teasing him this morning and then completely ignoring him, he knows something’s up.

It’s the sight of her ass, clad in ruffled satin panties show a good portion of her already well rounded ass. She’s facing away from him, bare back as she works away on layering the lasagna and god in fucking heaven she’s a marvel.

“You made it on time, Mr. Locksley,” she says, keeping her eyes at work, not turning to look at him. God fucking hell, her fucking ass, perfectly curved, well rounded and more than enough to knead at whenever he pleases.

Without a single response, he stands behind her, stiff cock touching her half bare ass, smoothing his hand on her thigh, and moving upwards to her breasts that are well covered in that matching satin apron, a tiny little thing barely hanging on to her breasts.

She’s a bloody dream, skin so fucking soft, sweet and perfect. He can’t help himself and he begins to kiss the curve of her neck, and she’s already leaned in to his touch, but now, the moan she lets out, a moan of fucking neediness _for him_ , has him leaning her onto the counter, holding her tighter as he feels her breath go heavier and her head lean against his shoulder, “You’ve no idea how bad I want to dig my cock in you, give you a well deserving fuck until you’re moaning and yelling my name.”

She moans, her ass leaning towards his cock, giving it a bit of a grind as she holds on the counter for a better grip, “Come on, Mr. Locksley, you can wait another few days to fuck my ass.”

“Gods, darling, I’ll be fucking you whichever way you want, ass, cunt, tits, wherever I’ll get you pleading for me.”

“Do you remember last year, when you couldn’t stop making me come? How you kept licking and licking me after I had come. How I pleaded for more even if it drove me insane?” She asks him as she turns around, ice blues meeting lusted browns and she gives his lower lip a sharp bite. He moans, loving the feel of the sting on his lip, trailing those same bites down his jaw, neck to his shoulder where she scraped her nails at his skin. The feeling of her ass in his bare hands drives him wild, and he hoists her on the counter, unlacing the back of her apron as she removes his belt buckle.

Once she’s free of the apron, he growls as he takes a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, hardening it with every, “ _Please, Robin, fuck me, please.”_ that comes out of his wife’s mouth.

The way she begs him does it for him, has him grunting, “Fucks sakes yes babe.”

She doesn’t respond, only gives him slow tsks that have him breaking out of sucking at her tits, “Now, Mr. Locksley, you know that’s against the rules,” she warns, hot breath in his ears as he groans out a desperate _fuckssakes._

She turns in now against the counter, an angry voice leading her hands as she reprimands him, “You don’t break the rules, or I’ll have to punish you,” She digs her hand in his pants, stroking his member as she growls, “I’ll leave your cock almost, just almost, about to fuck me, but not yet there. Letting you feel how wet and needing my pussy is for you but I won’t let you taste I won’t let you feel inside me, I won’t let you fuck me.” He can barely register her words through her thick voice, a dominating tone that has his member growing stiffer, full of pressure ready to release as she continues to pump but he can’t, he has to behave, “Because that’s what happens to my husband if he misbehaves.”

“ _Fuck! Darling!”_

It’s all too much, god it's fucking sexy, so fucking hot hearing her reprimand him, torture him this way, have this control over her and he’s just so tempted, tempted to fuck her and comes in her palm just to be reprimanded, just to see her silky wet cunt for a moment. To just about fuck her, at least see how deliciously wet her folds have gotten. God he fucking misses her, misses spending eternities lapping her, tasting her and licking her in all the ways he could with his tongue.

He’s just about there, just a bit more and he can come, he can release but she lets go - stops.

He lets out a thick, unsteady breath and looks over to her, as she begins to undress herself in front of him, her perfectly curled hair falling at her shoulder, as her breasts now tender and reddened greet him for a moment. She drops those gorgeous silk panties, leans into him and kisses him. She digs her tongue into his mouth, she swirls about, warm tongues meeting and fucking sake it’s not helping him to know that she must be bloody soaking wet, so horny, needing him. He leaves him with the kiss ending in a suck of his lip, she trails to kiss his neck, feeling the rakes of nails on his neck and she clings to him, humming an erotic sound that makes holding back almost impossible but before he can act on impulse she walks off into their room, letting him feast of the wife he cannot have - not yet.

 

**Tuesday**

It was nearing 8 o clock, she had let Robin know that she was running late due to another Van Gogh piece that had just arrived that morning for the exhibit. She had told him to not wait up for her and that she would meet him and his friends at the pub where they were holding her step-sister's very early wedding rehearsal among their friends.

Mary Margaret had wanted to have two wedding rehearsals, instead of one. She wanted there to be one among her close friends and the day before host the actual wedding party among their whole family and friends.

Clad in a sexy, black skin tight camis dress reaching just above her mid-thigh, thin straps holding her bust in place as they peeked sensually out of the deep v neckline, she was hesitant, self-conscious at one point to wear this sort of dress outside of their home.

It was for him though, for her husband - her Robin. She knew what it would do to him, to see her in this dress. The same dress that years ago she had worn on their anniversary trip in Miami, Florida. The memory has her skin filling with goose bumps at how the night had transpired. They had rented a private seaside home. From the moment they had gotten there, their cell phones had been turned off to the outside world, it was just them and the beach, the white linen covering them as their naked bodies rocked and thrusted together in the beach bed as the sunset through their orgasms.

They had been so caught up in their own attentions that they had not realized that some of the lotions Regina had packed had bursted out of their containers, the top layer of clothes on her suitcase soiled in creams in addition to the dress she had been hoping to wear for their anniversary dinner. That next morning, as Regina slept on, Robin made his way over to a local boutique to get her a new one. He immediately saw that dress, that black little number and she’ll never forget what he’d told her when he gifted it to her. He’d told her, the moment he had seen it, he’d pictured her on it and him peeling it off as he gave her nipples soft sucks and bites, bringing it down to her ankles as she spread her legs open for him to suck and lap at her all he pleased as she pleaded him for more. The night of their anniversary they had done just that, leaving forgotten the soiled clothes as they saw how far they could go while Regina still had that little black dress on. So, she knows that he will remember it well, so today of all days, in which they will be in public is a perfect opportunity to test his limits, and hers as well.

It’s been so great the past few days, so fucking difficult to not let him just has his way, let him suck her dry, fuck her with his tongue give her clit a tender bite, it’s been so fucking difficult but so much fun.

She loves to see how much he wants her, how hard he gets just from seeing her in nothing on, in bed being herself. It’s that part that makes this all that more enjoyable. She can test her limits with him, she can be hot, sexy, dominating and anything she wants and he finds it worth having an orgasm for. From the start, it was different with Robin, from sex to their relationship, but when they began to see how open they both were with sex, nothing was off limits.

Whatever either wanted, they tried. They found the lust in every act, however off-putting for some, she was open to it with it and so was he.

So she’s excited, butterflies bubbling because she’s ready to tease her husband some more, maybe even play a bit under the tables if they get a chance, get him squirming just like she loves.

The moment Regina walks into the restaurant, which excitement had turned to fury. The bitch was leaning against the bar, breast in full display as she was clearly flirting with her husband. It’s Belle, as usual, snaking her way into another unavailable man. Regina never really liked Belle she always felt she looked for attention inconspicuously. Since they were both young girls, Belle had always wormed herself into anything that involved Regina and a boy, Regina and her step-sister bonding, Regina and anything that could make her happy. She’d play the innocent act, but everyone knew the type of slut she was. When they were young, all their friends knew, after finding her behind the bushes in the Kindergarten playground with Will Scarlet, she was marked. But for sake of the friendship that Mary Margaret still had with her, for some odd reason, everyone tried to keep the peace. So at any event, she took advantage of any man that was womanless (whether married or not did not matter), and most of all, whoever had the most money got her attention.

So, of course, her husband was on that list.

She would not let one meaningless worm get in her way of the night she had planned. She marches over, heels knocking the floor as she sees Belle’s hand dare to touch Robin’s chest - one he quickly removes. She’s relieved, not that she doesn’t trust her husband, but it always reaffirms that fact that she fell in love with him, the fact that he’s loyal, no matter if she’s there or not.

“Belle, what a pleasure seeing you here,” she tells her, wrapping her arms around her husband as he does the same. She greets him with a soft, “Hi baby,” as they kiss, a soft kiss and then a peck for good measure.

“You look gorgeous, my love,” Robin whispers to her, eyes focused on her as he gives her another peck.

Belle clears her throat, clearly uncomfortable, but neither seems to care. Regina raises her brow, not having any of that little worm’s act, “You can go off and find another man, mines taken,” she leans to whisper at Belle, “And I keep him more than satisfied, sweetie. You wouldn’t be able to keep up anyway.”

Belle gasps, turning on her heels as blushes cheeks run off to another part of the restaurant.

“You shouldn’t be that mean to her, she’s just immature, love,” Robin chides her, trying to get her to understand.

“I couldn’t care less about her immaturity,” she replies, wrapping her arms around his neck, feeling his hands, ones whose touch she’s come to know like home, run down her spine and settle at the top of her ass. Yeah, he couldn’t care less about being in public, she’s his wife and he’ll get handsy with her all he pleases.

“You’ve no idea, how much I’d like to get you alone, hike up this dress, take off this thong I’m quite enjoying the feel of and have you coming with me.” He kisses her bare skin, peppering kisses from her neck, shoulders, going a bit down her extended arms. It’s so good, it’s so him and she feels perfectly at home in this moment.

“Wouldn’t you like to fuck me at the table, let me slide down your cock, feeling you fill me up just the way I love,” she says smirking, a confident gaze on him that makes the noisy restaurant go silent.

“If you don’t stop, I’ll have to take you into the lav and at least go down on you, just for a few good licks,” he replies, biting the curve of her ear.

“Will you two stop getting handsy for once?” Mary Margaret scolds them from, “It’s my wedding rehearsal not yours, so please don’t let me relive the bathroom incident again.”

“It’s not my fault she was wearing practically nothing.”

Regina gives him a swat on his shoulder, “It’s not my fault my then fiancé begged me to.” She leans into his ear, biting it just at the curve of his earlobe, her hot breath on his ear whispering, “Remember just how much you begged me, while between my legs, pleading me as you fucked me with your tongue.”

“Ugh! Get a room you two,” Mary Margaret groans, making her way to greet the rest of her friends.

The rehearsal dinner goes smoothly, and as dessert came about, and the wine warmed her, she scooted herself closer to her husband, leaning in on his chest as he wrapped his arms over her.

He gives her a soft kiss on her temple, then one trailing down her check and it feels so perfect, being with him, always has been. She’s happy, with her friends here with her (even those she couldn’t care less for some).

She feels the soft massage of his hands on her scalp, a very domestic action they both have taken over the years. The same action he patterns after they’ve had sex, with her skin glistening in the afterglow as she lays face down, feeling his hands trace over her spine.

It’s her musings about past public indecency moments that gives her an idea. The reminiscing of their rehearsal dinner a few years back, at the Bleackmen Hotel. The location Cora insisted on because it was a must, her daughter have the best of the best. They had the wedding ceremony there as well, the next afternoon. Cora had once again made her wedding another opportunity to show off her wealth she’d gotten her from deceased ex-husband Leopold. And fucking Belle once again thinking she had a right to come onto Robin - on the night before their fucking wedding.

She’d been furious, completely enraged at how people decided to stomp on her moments of happiness.

Her husband, though, he’d seen the anger, believed it was completely unfair that she could not enjoy her own rehearsal dinner the way she deserved. She remembers the way he’d approached her, wrapping her from behind as he kissed that spot of her neck she loved to have kissed so much.

He took her into the dressing room where her wedding gown lay, waiting to be worn the next morning.

She had protested at first, warning him that he could not see the bride in her gown before the wedding but he always had a witty remark ready for her, “ _Who says I want to?_ _I’d quite like to see you, just from your lower bits for now.”_

She didn’t know what it was, whether that hot British accent or the sexy way he looked in his navy suit, but in that moment, after having to deal with the humiliating weight of her mother’s presence, she just wanted to feel light. And her fiancée eating her out was the perfect solution.

They’d locked themselves in the bathroom of her dressing room, well thought they’d locked themselves. It was meant to be rushed, a quickie but once he’d nestled his tongue on her heat, once he’d heard the whimpers she attempted to keep low there was no way he would be quick. Not when he was able to cherish her while her black thong lay around her left ankle and her dress was rucked at her torso. The vibration of his hums as he lay flat slow licks over her had her leaning into him, then fisting his hair, hungrily pushing him towards her center as he held tightly, kneading away at her ass. But it had been in that moment that Mary Margaret had rushed in about to tell them that Cora had been looking for her to give a toast, with her then boyfriend David right behind her.

The restaurant is dimmed, so much that it takes more than a few glances to get the proper view of who a person is looking at. She thinks it’s perfect, perfect for what she’s now devising they could do.

Robin’s talking away with David, as he strokes her arm. She gives him a small peck on his neck, leaving a slight bit of red lipstick in form of her lower lip on his white collar.

He looks at her, brows a bit in confusing as he tries to figure out what she’s doing, all the while a loving smile on his face. David had been long gone, following Mary Margaret’s quick orders to deal with the restaurant's lack of timeliness to bring out champagne for the guests as they all make their way onto the adjoining private balcony overlooking the city. They’re left alone, the long dining table all to themselves with the loud chatter of their friends and other guests bubbling about the place.

She gives her lips a bite, the thrill of them doing absolutely naughty things, has her bubbling with excitement. It’s so daring and so them.

She leans in, whispering in his ear, “I’m so wet right now, baby.  You have no idea much I want you to lick my wet clit… suck me just like you did at our own rehearsal dinner. Do you remember that?”

He says nothing, but she feels it, the firm hand moving away from her shoulder and tightening on her thigh

“Suck me until I moan your name, until I beg you to fuck me with this,” she says huskily, as he slinks her way to settle her hand over his pants where his member pulsates, half hard and growing from the soft strokes she gives him, her hot breath bringing his skin shivers of excitement.

“Imagine if it was just you and me here, no one could see us, no one would notice if you took me on this table, laid me down and fucked me properly.”

“Fucks sake, love,” his strained voice and breathing growing heavier as she leans more into him until her ass is just about half up on his thigh while still being able to keep straight posture and not draw any attention.

They’re close enough to the table cloth that none of their interactions can be seen from that or the dimmed room. She dives under, unbuckling his belt as a groan of relief escapes him because she knows he’s relieved she will at least touch him for a few moments. Once unbuckled, she wraps her hand, warming his stiff cock and maneuvering it out of his briefs.

She’s surprised, once she’s begun stroking him, running her finger over his tip, she feels the tingling sensation of his fingers trailing on her thighs and delving under her dress.

The halt at her soaked thing, brings him closer to her, as he kisses her shoulder as he murmurs, “You’re soaked for me, darling.”

She continues to stroke him steadily, attempting to do her best to get him more riled up in between moans and small whimpers as he begins to place tantalizing pressure over her wet thong, feeling it so close to her heat as she manages to whisper to him, “I just want to show you how much I want you, that I am - _fuck -_ I’m dying for you, dying to feel your fingers inside me. I want you to play with me so much, make me feel all three of your finger - _oh! -_ four of them, inside me, fucking me good.”  
  
It doesn’t do him any good either, not when she’s a marvel at working him up, at saying words that have always had power over him, the power to get him ready to take her at the snap of her fingers. She’s been pumping him steadily, and the avoidance from the past few days is causing him to get closer to his climax much faster. He can feel the pressure in his breathing, the unsteadiness of his precise strokes since he’s now slipped her thong to the side and begun to tease and stroke in steady circles over her aroused folds, “Fucks sake, love, slow it down, I’ll come I swear.”

She won’t stop, won’t dare even if she can’t hold herself together either, not until she knows he will just about reach his peak, “I know you like my tongue to go around your tip.”

  
She pumps him, steadily breathing attempting to remain focused but the feel of his fingers, playing with her folds, swirling and circling about her slick sweet heat is making it more difficult than she thought possible.

God, she fucking loves him. She loves her husband, loves how they fit so perfectly together, in every way possible it all melds effortlessly. And it’s not just that the sex is fucking mind-blowing, but it’s the absolute trust she has in him, the comfort that comes along with this level of risk, that she knows he’d contain himself, that he will make sure to do as she’s ordered. He will not come, he knows he’s not allowed and neither is she.

Images of what their night could end up like flash in her head, imaginations of the cuffs she knows he’ll use, the promises he’s made to her of the ways he’ll torture her, the ways she’ll be at the edge but she won’t be allowed to come, “I can’t wait for Thursday baby, so I can slide down in you. So you can rock hard on my me, fuck me in and out… in filling me up, loving me just the way I know only you can, making me feel sexy and hot.”

“Regina, fuck,” his groan is just above a whisper, the pressure of   himself is apparent in his face but he keeps on, keeps on fingering her, steady circular stroked that increase in pressure and   as she slightly bucks into his fingers, creating a steady grind to compliment his ministrations.

“Imagine me rocking steady, feeling you in my hand, hard just like right now, ready for my wet tongue to give you more, to suck you just a bit more and take you whole, I know how much you love that.”

Her voice, sexy and seductive makes it all that more complicated when he groans louder.

She’s riled up, just about to reach her peak from how naughty all of this is and she knows he’s close so close and she knows just the words that will do the trick, “I love getting you like this, riled and tense, torturing you until you can’t take any more, until you want to fuck me in the middle of the street in broad daylight.”

“Gods, Regina - _fuck -_ I’m going to-guh!” She feels it, the tightening and hitching of his breath, the restaurant is loud, and enough to muffle their words and groans but his tense posture turns to a bit of squirming from the intensity. Fuck this is hot, she loves it, this dominance she has over him, to have him in her control to do with him as she pleases and get away with it.

His movements have stilled a bit, his bit of squirming unfocuses him as she continues to pump “See how wet I am, I know you love it. You love it don’t you?” He manages to groan out in agreement, as she continues to pump her last stroke, removing her hand from his stiffed ready to release cock and removes his hand from her center. 

She pulls down her dress, as she stands and whispers into his ear before walking off to her friends, “Let me sit on your face on Thursday, wouldn’t you like that? So you can eat me out like that.”

He meets her later, after he’s thrown some water on his face and managed to get his arousal under control - for now.

**Wednesday**

She hasn’t texted him at all. He’s missed her, truly has. Not just because of the unwavering need but because he’s used to her checking in throughout the day. So, he’s looking forward to seeing her, give her a good snog and enjoying the rest of the evening together in bed, on the couch or wherever just being together.

As he enters their home, he notices the lights dimmed, and he knows immediately what’s to come.

“Regina, darling?”

It’s completely stupid of him, he knows, to call out for her when he clearly knows that she’s in their bedroom most likely, ready with some delicious torment for him.

“You’re late.” a husky voice, stern and demanding comes from their room.

She’s sitting on a wooden chair that appears to be from their living room. And gods in fucking heaven the look she gives him. Eyes dark, wanting and ready to have him in her command. Clad in a black lingerie set, a gorgeous devil, mesh lacy panties, with barely noticeable stockings hooked at the waists of her panties. Jesus, he can see it all as her legs open slightly, panties almost invisible he sees her sweet pussy waiting for him. Her tits, so utterly visible through the lacy thin black bra, decorated with crisscrossed satin laces on her chest all connected to her bra straps. It’s a new outfit, he’s memorized all of her lingerie, from that stringy crimson number to the baby blue baby doll he’d bought her for their first anniversary.

She’s exuding dominance, total and utter command and he will give it to her. He loves her, loves every beautiful, brilliant part of his gorgeous wife and he has no objections to pleasing her in whatever way she loves.

“Take your clothes off. Now.” she orders. He makes quick work of his clothes, scattering them about the room as he stands in place, waiting impatiently for what she has in store for him.

“Let me take this off, Mr. Locksley,” she tells him, sitting on the chair, legs crossed hands rested on the armrests, a dark devilish smile is on her face – she knows what she’s doing.

“Will you watch me?”

Well, fuck. He nods, not hesitantly but slowly, as he swallows the nerves that have risen from the sight of his wife.

She stands, taking his hand and he’s tempted to touch, to feel the lacy two-piece against her breasts but he holds back. She sits him on the chair and pulls out a silk flimsy little strap that’s probably from one of her robes. She places her hand against his chest, pushes him to rest against the chair and leans towards him, close enough to kiss her red tinted lips, close enough to smell the scent of her perfume on her neck. He can do it, he can kiss her, but he doesn’t. He won’t.

She wraps the thin belt around him and the back of the chair and two other silk belts around his wrists and the arm of the chair - good tight knots that don’t permit his arms to move from their resting position. She stands back looking over his confined form.

A small giggle erupts as she stands looking at her husband, “Don’t take your eyes off me.”

He shakes his head in a no, not willing to miss a single moment of his wife, undressing herself before his eyes.

“Watch me, babe.” she adds on with a mischievous smile.

She’s a sensual woman, knows her body and what she loves well. She stands in front of him, looking over his naked form as she bites her bottom lip, thinking of the deliciously naught things she will be torturing him with, “Do you want to touch me baby?” she traces her hands over her curves wandering onto her torso and up toward her tits, massaging both at the same time as her husband watches on in silence, but eyes in raging lust for her.

She leaves one hand at her breasts, alternating kneads and teasing pinches at her nipples, her right hand moves south, halting at the center of her heat, slowly stroking her clit over her panties, as she moans, “Do you want to grab ahold of me, and not let go?”

“God fucking yes I do.” He pleads, still attempting to reach out to her through the restraints.

“Let me sit this ass on you, Mr. Locksley, show you how I feel.”

She sits on top of him, grinds at his growing hard member as she caresses her breasts, teasing through the thin lace and rocks steady, grinding her wet thong on his lap, as she caresses her own thigh, lifting her hair to the side of her shoulder, and begins to undo the thin strap of her bra, sliding it down sensually. He wants to reach over but the binding on his chest is what doesn’t allow him.  
  
“If you like you can touch me Mr. Locksley, you can feel my tits, even how wet my pussy is,” he lets out a grunt, attempting to do so but the ties on his wrists don’t allow him to.

“I- I can’t.”

She tsks, a slight bit of a pout forming on her bottom lip that he knows is only to tease him further, “But you said you wanted to, Mr. Locksely,” she removes the other strap, still giving his lap a slow grind.

It’s delicious to her, the way she can control him in this way, and how he’s a more than willing participant. With her back towards him, she undoes the other strap, letting it fall, “Would you like me to take this off, Mr. Locksley?”

She’s holding onto her bra hooks, waiting for his response and with a husky _Yes_ she removes her clasp, dropping it down to the floor, forgotten, and he sees her hands move up to her chest, she leans her head back, moaning as she massages her tits. God in fucking hell he can only imagine what she’s doing, how she’s twisting her nipples just like she loves, pinching them, pulling them and massaging her breasts. The steady grinding of her soaking pussy on his stiffened cock.

“Regina, babe, you feel so bloody good, so good my love,” his groans only have her pressing her wetness onto him even more.

“Are you going to fuck me good tomorrow, Mr. Locksley?” she begins to lift herself slightly, sliding down her thong, she turns to face him, and settles herself back onto his lap, slick pussy sliding on his shaft.

The sound he makes once she feels her slick heat, sliding easily on him has her head arching back, making the relief of finally feeling her husband close to her in this way all the more gratifying. She’s warm, slippery sweet and it’s a perfect feeling against his stiff cock. Her arms wrap around his neck, a smug grin on her lips that she bites her lip, moaning when she feels her clit grind on his cock.

“Mmm, so good,” she whines, “You know, your hands would be on my ass right now. Grabbing it tight - _mmm! -_ holding it with your strong arms while I begged you to give it a swat.”

“Gods darling, let me, please, I beg you.”

She tsks at him, puckering her lips as she leans in closer to him, “We can’t do that Mr. Locksley. What about these, mm?” she asks, massaging her tits and bringing them closer as she thumbs her nipples in front of him, “Do you want to suck these, give them little bite?”

She leans in closer, letting him get close to them but not enough for him to take them in his mouth, “Tell me, Mr. Locksley, tell me what you would like to do. And maybe I’ll let you do it.”

“Let me suck your gorgeous tits, babe, let me give you some pleasure, please my love,” his begging is what turns her on even more, his desire to give her pleasure as he’s tied up in her control, at her will. God this shit is so hot, it’s making her wild, but she needs to stay focused, needs to keep in control.

Tomorrow is all him, tomorrow he takes the time to give her everything she loves, everything that will make her writhe and come in all sorts of way.

She leans in, and he hungrily takes her tits in his mouth and nips a bit.  He’s fucking good with his mouth, he moves to her other breast, giving it the same pleasure and adding in a swirl at her nipples, flicking up and down at the tips and then lightly scraping his teeth over them.

She grinds on, moving on his cock, feeling the pool of desire between her thighs grow more intense as every suck and flick her husband gives her brings her closer to her peak.

“I can’t wait until tomorrow, for you to hold me and fuck me until I scream - _so good baby so good mmm! -_ f-for air to breathe,” she’s close, and she knows his deep grunts indicate he’s holding on as well, trying to keep himself from reaching his own release.

She slows down, but his ministrations to her breasts continue on as she unties his wrists. s soon as his hands are free he eagerly massages her other breast, kneading it and pinching her nipples as his mouth continues to suck and circle on the other.

She leans away a bit, she can’t continue, she knows this or they will end up in bed. He grunts, removing from her breasts and beginning to press hot kisses between her breasts, moving up to the curve of her neck and giving it gentle sucks. It’s instinctual, she fits perfectly with him and she wraps her arms around him, running her hand over his back as she feels his muscles contracting as he presses on her hips, grinding himself on her center as she begins to moan. Fuck it feels so good, feels like a fucking dream when he takes control of her, the way he knows exactly how and where to touch her, where to press hard and where to suck her just right.

“Love you so much, babe, god, you’re so sexy,” his mutters desperately as he kisses and sucks works at her breasts.

In the heat of it all, she can’t seem to move away, can’t care to know why she should when her husband is loving her, kissing her naked body and hungry for her, for what she can give him.

It happens quickly, he picks her up from their sitting form, her legs wrapping around his torso as she asks where he’s taking her.

“I’m bedding you, god’s I need to fuck you, need to feel you babe, can’t wait any longer,” he sets her on their bed gently, moving down to kiss down her belly, give a soft bite to her hip, and begin to place hot wet kisses to her pelvis, and slowly trail down to where she knows he will eat her out.

She should let him, should fucking let him fuck her now, eat her out all he wants until she’s a wobbly mess. And no matter how much she wants her husband to fuck her here and now, she already decided against it, knows that it will be far better tomorrow, the wait will be worth it and the relief with be greater.

“Baby, tomorrow, just one more day,” she attempts to convince him, pulling his head up to her eye level.

He groans, “No,” it’s a whimpered groan that breaks her heart because she knows how hard it is to wait, to want to be with him so fucking badly it’s infuriating.

But, she knows he won’t protest, not seriously, allows him to have his groans and whines the valley of her breasts, while his hands stroke her sides, running from her thighs up to her arms.

She gives him a kiss on his head, smiling at his childlike tantrum only because he couldn’t eat her out.

So they’ll wait until the next day, after their plans for dinner and a Broadway show are complete and they make their way home and release until morning, but not yet.

 


End file.
